


Out On a Limb

by ceilingfan5



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Giveaway fic, M/M, actual volleyball happens, background matsuhana comedy duo, but he still kicks ass of course, iwaizumi has prosthetics, surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5998588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceilingfan5/pseuds/ceilingfan5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an accident as a child and successive complications, Iwaizumi has both a prosthetic arm and a leg. That doesn't stop him from playing volleyball, but not having proper sports prosthetics make it difficult. Oikawa has an idea to really step up his game, and with the help of the whole team, they can give him the support he really needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out On a Limb

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 150 followers giveaway fic for gay-lavi! I've gotten a lot of followers this week, so it looks like I'll be doing another one pretty soon. If you want in on the next giveaway, now's your chance to follow my fic blog, fan5fics! Comments always make my day and keep me writing, so please share your thoughts, feelings, reactions, heartbreak, etc.
> 
> If there is something in this fic that you believe needs to be addressed, please feel free to talk to me about it.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath and watched the ball coming straight for him. He waited, one, two, three seconds, for it to hit the perfect arc, and then he ran and jumped for it, arm swinging solidly and legs pushing him off the ground and right into the…

Net. 

The ball flew off without him, easily scoring for the other side, and he swore, not bothering to keep the nasty word under his breath. Probably a little more aggressively than strictly necessary, he refused anyone that offered assistance or cries of “Don’t mind!” and tore himself out of the net. He ripped off his practice jersey, threw it, and stormed off the court. He did mind. He minded a lot. 

The coach called after him to suggest a break, but Iwaizumi was already halfway to the club room, fuming and smarting from the red marks the net had left on his skin. So much for showing that he deserved to be a regular. So much for getting the coach to stop looking at him like a charity case, or holding his own on the court, or playing side by side with Oikawa for his last year of high school. He kicked the nearest locker and in his anger, part of him hoped to dent the prosthetic that was good enough for walking, but absolute garbage for things that really mattered. 

It felt much too hollow to be satisfying. 

He sat on one of the benches and counted the seconds before Oikawa burst in after him to chastise him for giving up so quickly and offer too-kind words of support. That was supposed to be his job. He was supposed to be the rock, not the hard place. But that was just the way of things, especially after a long day that only promised to get longer. The calendar on the wall marking the next big game mocked him and he pressed his face into a clean towel instead. 

The door slammed open and it slammed closed. The bench sagged next to him. Deep breath. 

“Someone’s a big diaper-wearing tantrum baby.”

Oikawa’s tease startled him into a chuckle, but not in the mood for laughter, he quickly fixed his grumpy face back on. 

“What are you doing here, Oikawa?” He wrapped the towel around his neck. He could work hard enough to work up a sweat, but not to hit the damn ball. Typical. 

“Checking on you, you jerk.” Oikawa leaned an elbow on his shoulder, always a fan of reminding him who was taller.

“You don’t have to.” It was hard not to sound bitter, so he didn’t bother trying. He would get over it soon enough. He usually did.

“Do too. So tell me, Iwa-chan. What’s wrong?” He put on his puppy-dog face, but Iwaizumi was too tough to fall for it. 

“Don’t Iwa-chan me. Get back to practice. They actually need you out there.”

“They can get on for a few minutes without me, sheesh. We are going to have to leave them all by their lonesome this year, you know.”

Iwaizumi’s throat felt dry.

“Yeah, I know.”

The silence was hard to bear. 

“Look.” Oikawa rested a firm hand on his hip and put on his best take-no-shit face. “Get out of your funk and come back to practice. It wasn’t that embarrassing. You really are a great player, okay? You don’t need-”

Iwaizumi nearly pushed him off the bench.

“I don’t need what? Save your pity for an audience.”

“It’s not pity, you ass!” Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him, reverting immediately to childish behavior in times of stress. “Do I have to quote all that stuff you say to me all the time? Hard work and all that? You’re good, okay? You love it and you’re good at it and you make us better. You’re part of the team, even if you are a big stinky meanie face-”

Iwaizumi did push him off the bench then, and Oikawa almost missed the smallness of his voice in his own complaints and curses and tangle of limbs.

“I can’t do it like this, Oikawa. I can’t do it like I know I’m capable of.” He stared at his hand, metal and plastic clenched into an almost-fist, so incongruous against his gym shorts and so useless against volleyballs at the speeds that they faced. Oikawa met his gaze at his lower leg, fine for walking and sometimes even running, but nothing in the face of a real, proper, net-high jump. Almost wasn’t good enough, and both of them knew it. There was only so much difference that hard work could make. 

But it would be foolish not to milk hard work for all it was worth. 

Oikawa stood, dusted himself off, and hooked an arm around his best friend. 

“Get off your ass before coach sends Kunimi after us. I’m sure if we don’t get to back to practice soon, we’ll be running until sunrise.” 

Iwaizumi shook his head and sighed, but he followed Oikawa’s lead and stood anyway. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I guess your ego couldn’t handle losing a race that long.”

“So mean, Iwa-chan!” 

And just like that, things went back to normal. But Oikawa was done settling for normal. 

The first super-secret team meeting was held the following Monday, while Iwaizumi was conveniently at a dentist appointment. 

“Alright, everybody, do you know why I called you here?” Oikawa paced dramatically in front of the blackboard in the empty classroom, eyeing each and every member of the team he had managed to pull into his scheme. 

“You hate us and want us to suffer even when we don’t have practice?” Matsukawa called out. 

“You want us to help you propose to Iwaizumi?” Hanamaki added, grinning at Matsukawa.

Oikawa glared.

“No! I mean- well, it does involve Iwa-chan, but-” 

“But you can’t decide whether you love him or volleyball more?” 

“Just have a threesome with the volleyball.” 

“Yeah, you just cut a hole in it-”

“Shut up!” Oikawa growled. The peanut gallery dissolved into giggles. “Look, there’s a problem with our team, and as Captain, it’s my job to do everything in my power to fix that problem, right?”

“Is that problem Kunimi’s hair?” Hanamaki got one more joke in before Oikawa beaned him with an eraser. Kunimi reddened and stared at his hands. 

“It is not! Both of you stop being smart-asses for a minute and listen to me, okay? This is serious!” He folded his arms and leveled a stare at all of his teammates. “Iwaizumi needs better prosthetics.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” 

“And I, being the most perfect, most generous, most kind person ever to live, immediately had the best idea ever.” Matsukawa opened his mouth to add something, but Oikawa held up a second eraser as threateningly as possible. “We’re going to raise enough money to get him real sports ones!” 

“There are sports prosthetics?” a first year whispered. 

“Course there are,” another muttered back. “They make it easier to jump and go faster and receive balls and stuff.”

“Woah!” 

Oikawa grinned. 

“Perfect, isn’t it?”

“How do you know Iwaizumi-senpai’s okay with this, though?” A second year made a face. “Isn’t this like, really personal? What if we’re being assholes by assuming stuff?” 

“I’ve known Iwaizumi for literally forever!” Oikawa put his hands on his hips. “I know what he wants. I’ve done lots of research. And it’s not like we’re going to buy him the literal limbs. We’re going to give him the money and let him go get them picked and fitted and stuff.” 

“Oh.”

“That’s a lot of money though, isn’t it?” 

Oikawa winced. This was the tough part of the plan. 

“Yeah, practically an arm and a leg-” 

“Matsukawa I swear to god, I will make you do 40 rounds of flying falls for every unhelpful word that comes out of your mouth.” He waited for a response, gladly received none, and continued to talk. “Look, I have some money saved up, and we can raise the rest in no time. We can do car washes and have bake sales and, I don’t know, whatever else people do to raise money. If we work hard for Iwa, we can do this.”

“You’re hard for Iwa.” 

Oikawa dismissed the meeting in order to commit a double homicide.

The next two months were tough for everyone involved. Cupcake parties lead to bake sales at lunch with items flying off the shelves, at least half simply because of the implication that Oikawa had made them. They tried to hold a carwash, struggled to find any cars to attend, but made several hundred dollars in tips just for the viewing of the water fight that came afterward.  
Sneaky bets on their practice games started racking up the bills, and rumor had it that even some of the teachers were participating. Some of the more charming team members even canvassed the richer parents of the student body, embellishing a cheesier sob story every time that would have had Iwaizumi in an understandably murderous rage if he had known. 

And that was, perhaps, the most difficult part. If the gift was going to be a surprise, no one could let Iwaizumi know a thing. Oikawa struggled every day to keep him coming to practice and to stop him for catching on. Successive meetings took place in broom closets and bathrooms to keep the secret safe, and more than once Oikawa barely tore down posters in time. 

But they couldn’t keep it from him forever. He nearly caught on when they sponsored a kissing booth at the festival. A significant lie had to be made up when a teacher complimented the team on their hard, charitable work. But when a mysteriously large amount of spectators began to file in to the gym on a normal practice day, he no longer accepted the diversions. 

He grabbed Oikawa by the jersey in the locker room only minutes before they were due to start stretches. Oikawa tried to back out of it, but Iwaizumi’s grip was too tight. 

“Iwa-chan, we’re going to be late!”

“Don’t Iwa-chan me,” he snarled. “I know something is up. What have you guys been doing? Why are there so many people here?”

“You’re being silly, they’re just here to watch us play! Well, watch me, of course, but-”

“Don’t give me that. I know you’ve been hiding something from me. If this is another one of your stupid schemes-”

“It’s not!” Oikawa dropped the act immediately before he ended up with a broken nose, or, at the very least, the threat of one. “Look, I promise you’ll know soon enough. But don’t ruin the surprise, okay??”

“I don’t want to be surprised! I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me! Did I-” His glare was even harder than his usual you’re-an-idiot look, and Oikawa felt a pang of regret for having to keep him out of the loop. Iwaizumi was a tough guy, but not being included really tended to get under his skin, whether he admitted it or not. Oikawa dropped his shoulders and tipped his head a little, softening his gaze. 

“Iwa-chan, it’s nothing you did, okay? I mean it. I got carried away and left you in the dark for too long, but...” He smiled and pressed their foreheads together. “I’ll let you know now.”

Disarmed by his surrender, Iwaizumi didn’t know how to react. He hadn’t expected Oikawa to give up so soon. Usually it took longer to crack away at his shell. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he muttered, for lack of a better response. He let go of the jersey and pulled away.

“Just promise you’ll stop being a bully!” Oikawa put an arm around his shoulders and lead him to the gym. 

“No promises,” he countered. He couldn’t help but vibrate with anticipation. It wasn’t his birthday or any holiday he could think of, and Oikawa’s nonsense had been so varied that he’d struggled to come up with a reasonable solution even before the confrontation. He was seriously at a loss, and the lack of knowing what to expect excited and scared him. 

And neither of them had imagined that the gym would be so packed.

Oikawa and company had invited a few people, including the largest contributors, but no one had expected the word to spread so quickly and effectively. What was supposed to look like a normal practice game was beginning to resemble Nationals, and Iwaizumi immediately noticed that no one was stretching or warming up. 

They were all waiting for him. 

He glared at Oikawa again, daring him to explain, and Oikawa just grinned at him about as cheesily as humanly possible. Iwaizumi resolved to kick his ass the second all of this nonsense was over, but he graciously allowed Oikawa to lead him to center court, where the rest of the team was waiting and holding a suspiciously large sign. 

Iwaizumi resolved to kick everyone’s asses. He could already see the list forming in his head. Maybe he’d have them take turns, or he could just launch himself at them now, while they were still vulnerable…

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered, interrupting his ass-kicking organizational plans. Iwaizumi folded his arms and tried to stand in front of the too-large crowd as if he wasn’t suddenly extremely nervous. This had the makings of a terrible romantic comedy, or worse, an after-school special, and Iwaizumi wasn’t ready to get married straight out of high school. 

“Yeah?” was the only response to come to mind. 

Oikawa cleared his throat, glanced at the crowd, and then turned to fully face Iwaizumi. 

“I know you’ve been having a hard time lately,” he started. Iwaizumi wanted to question ‘lately’, but kept his mouth shut. “But you work really hard, and you mean so much to our team, and we all know you’re capable of really great things.” 

Iwaizumi swallowed. 

“You’ll have to forgive me for going behind your back,” Oikawa paused to give a winning smile to the growing audience, and Iwaizumi only wanted to punch him harder. He could handle a crowd when he was actually playing, but this standing still stuff was for the birds. He felt way too visible. 

“But I hope you’ll find that this will make a big difference.” 

Someone took a picture and the flash almost blinded him. Wait, was that his mother? His mouth went even dryer. 

“I wanted to get one of those really big checks, actually, but it turns out that they’re super expensive. You’ll just have to get some cool flames painted on your new leg instead.”

It took Iwaizumi a second to process that. New leg? But he wasn’t due for-

“Surprise!!” The whole team shouted in unison and turned the enormous banner around. Written on the paper in a glittery approximation of one of those giant checks Oikawa had always adored on game shows was a large sum of money. A very large sum of money, in fact. “We all worked together to raise you enough money to get actual sports prosthetics!”

“You...what?” Was he dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Had he finally had a final near-death experience and this was his way out? “You- You what?” 

Oikawa grinned almost wider than his stupid face could handle. 

“You’re getting real sports prosthetics, Iwa-chan! You can’t get the best kind, especially since you need an arm and a leg, but with this money, you should be able to get some seriously decent ones, and you’ll be able to play for real to close out your third year! I meant it when I said you’re already good, but with better tools, you’ll really be able to kick ass.” His grin turned sheepish. “If that’s okay with you?” 

Iwaizumi would never admit it later whenever they told the story, but right then, his pride didn’t matter. He burst into tears. Oikawa’s composure broke too, and by the time he’d grabbed Iwaizumi to hug him as tightly as possible, he was a crying mess too. The rest of the team members followed suit, swarming them and nearly turning the group hug into huge, teary dogpile. With Iwaizumi on second string, they were already a force to be reckoned with, but with an Iwaizumi at the top of his game, they were sure to be invincible. 

No one knew for certain whether or not Iwaizumi kissed Oikawa after that, but they certainly didn’t stick around for the actual practice. No one could really blame them.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at my writing blog, fan5fics, where commissions are $2 off for all of February, or my personal blog, celingfan5! Again, comments are extremely appreciated and really give me the motivation to keep writing for you.


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